Stone
by Conman2
Summary: Sorry, it's not MR, but a notice to my fans that I've published an actual book called Stone by Matthew Kaye on the Amazon Kindle Store. These are the first four chapters, and I'm told that it's very good, so enjoy the sample and buy it! Also has romance.
1. Prologue

A/N: This story will be available for sale on Amazon Kindle from Christmas Day 2011. Enjoy the first few chapters. Prologue

_She had to run. If she didn't she would die, and so would her child, it was as simple as that. Her vision was blurred from the tears in her eyes. Her husband was dead, but she had her boy._

_He was all that mattered to her now. She turned left into an alley, skidding to a halt at the sight of a high wall, with nothing but dustbins as a way of escape. The baby wailed as she clutched it to her chest. Despair filled her, all consuming and crippling. Was this where she would die? Would her sweet, innocent baby boy go with her? Her pursuers were close enough that she could hear their footsteps. She couldn't surrender to them. Her baby would _not _die here. There was no going back, so she ran forward, jumping onto one of the bins, sending the other one flying backwards as she gave herself a boost, jumped up onto one side of the alley, and kicked against it, sending them over the wall. Not bad for a thirty-year old mother. She landed hard on the ground, her legs buckling and grazing her knees against the concrete. She checked the baby, who miraculously hadn't a scratch on him. There was a satisfying grunt of pain behind her as the dustbin hit someone. It was a success, but it would only slow them down. _

_She had to get to Rob - he could protect them. If she could only get to him, everything might be alright. She ran with the fierce desperation of a parent protecting a child. She knew the area like the back of her hand, having lived here all her life. A fifteen-second head start should be enough to lose them. She took a side road and pushed through a hedge, reaching an open field, only twenty metres away from the cover of the forest. She could make it. Cradling her baby, she ran forwards. The tree ahead of her exploded with splinters. She ducked behind a tree before one of the shots actually hit her. She caught her breath, and then began to run through the woods, stumbling through thick branches for what seemed like an eternity. Fifteen minutes later, she reached the park, panting, and alone. She'd lost them. _

_Setting her boy down gently on the bench, she called Rob. He picked up on the second ring._

"_Hi Carol, are you alright?" he asked. "Only I-"_

"_Rob, I really need your help, get to the park immediately. Everything's gone wrong...they got Michael. Come quickly!"_

"_Whoa, slow down, who have they got?" he asked nervously._

"_Michael! They shot him, and took his body!" she sobbed. "I can't believe it."_

"_Michael's dead?" he choked, "What about-"_

"_James is fine. Now listen, if they get me, look after him, you're his closest relative," she said, her voice cracking, "James is innocent; they may leave him alone for now. You can look after him in that instance."_

"_My job might be dangerous for him," said Rob, "but I promise you that I'll look in on him and keep him safe, believe me."_

"_Okay," she said, through tears, "How close to the park are you?"_

"_I'll be there soon," he said, his voice strained, "Are you sure about Michael?"_

"_Yes," she murmured, "he's dead."_

"_And so are you."_

_She spun around, and caught the briefest glimpse of dark eyes before everything went black. The man bent down and checked the pulse. She was still alive. He drew his gun. Orders were orders._

_A shot split the peaceful silence. The baby wailed._


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

As fourteen-year old James Stone walked towards the school gates with Ryan, his best friend, he couldn't help but feel that his life was going well for a change. He was coping well with his homework – he had plenty of time at the care home. School was bearable, though dull, he had a few good friends, and there was of course the best thing he currently had going for him: Maxine, his girlfriend.

He'd known her since primary school, and luckily enough they'd both ended up going to the same secondary school, The Commins Priory, in Winchester, Hampshire. Things had got interesting, and they had got together not long ago this year.

He looked up to see her at the gates, and got a kick out of seeing her there, twirling one of her long brown curls, waiting for him.

"Morning," he said, giving her a quick peck on the lips. Ryan walked slightly ahead, giving them some privacy.

"So how was yesterday?" she asked, once the greetings were out of the way. He loved that cute concerned look on her face, and that she still cared enough after all this time to wear it. People knew about his parents, or lack thereof, but no one ever really talked to him about it. However, Maxine always made a point to ask, knowing how no one else ever did. It was one of the things he was most self-conscious about - how there was never _home_, it was always _the _home.

Karen had told him that one of the staff outside had found him, wrapped up in a basket with a note inside containing his name, but no explanation as to why he had been left. They didn't even know if his parents were actually from Hampshire or if he had just been dropped off there.

"The same as always: kids running around making a lot of noise, and a scramble over the old PS2."

"Well how about you come round to mine to cheer you up then," said Maxine, smiling a little mischievously. "My parents will be out with my brother and I've rented _The Hangover_ with some of my leftover Christmas money."

He smiled at her.

"If Karen's cool with it then I'll be there."

LINE BREAK

Ryan whistled as James sat next to him in English, looking at Maxine.

"Man, I don't know how you managed to get a girl like her," he laughed, "I mean look at me, compared to you."

James glanced at her, chatting to her friends, and smiled slightly.

"I guess it's just my amazing good looks," he replied.

"Maybe she should get her eyes checked," Ryan laughed. James took the challenge with relish.

"Yeah well, you're so ugly, that when you were dropped at school, your Mum got a ticket for littering," James retorted.

His eyes lit up at the challenge.

"Yeah, well you're so fat that when you jumped off the Eiffel Tower in a yellow raincoat, they thought the sun was falling down."

They continued to name as many fat and ugly jokes as humanly possible until their teacher Mr Fowler arrived. He groaned.

James had never liked him. From the first assembly he'd thought Mr Fowler sounded overly pompous and superior. _I am Mr Fowler, and you would do well to remember that._

Unfortunately James had turned out to be right. Mr Fowler was a terrible teacher: impatient, strict, and arrogant. The subject he taught didn't endear him to him further: English. James usually tried to see all lessons as useful, but he couldn't get around the fact that he just _hated_ essays. Moreover, the fact that his were always lacking in detail, often with the wrong technique, meant Mr Fowler didn't like him either. The only part of English he didn't mind was creative writing, and even then, he hated having to think up ideas. In fact, English and History were the only subjects he struggled with. In everything else, his grades were very good. He just couldn't see how poetry analysis would ever be any use.

"Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knive us." read Mr Fowler, with a funny lisp, hugely emphasized by the line he was reading, "What poetic devices are being used here? How about you, Blondie?"

"Sibilance?" suggested Ryan, looking a little put out. Nobody had laughed; Mr Fowler had made the hair joke often enough that they were tired of it.

Mr Fowler sighed with clearly exaggerated patience.

"But what does the sibilance represent?" he asked, "Try to use your brain!"

Ryan merely looked blank.

"A snake's hissing?" he suggested. This got a laugh, but only aggravated Mr Fowler.

"Even you could not have thought that was the correct answer, so I will see you this break for a detention. Now, can anybody give me the correct answer?" Ryan scowled as a swot on the front row put her hand up.

"Bad luck," mouthed James.

"The whistling of the icy wind," she answered.

"Excellent. And this also gives the feeling that the elements themselves are..."

James slouched over the desk, bored, vaguely listening to what he was saying. He got good exam marks in the other subjects, and he doubted dozing off a little in a pointless lesson would affect him much. Personally, he didn't think English was an important lesson. He couldn't see himself analyzing poetry any time in the future. He had a good vocabulary, and he could speak as well as any normal person, which is all he'd ever need from English. He wished it wasn't compulsory for GCSE. The Shakespeare essays would be hell.

After a while, his eyes wandered over to Mr Fowler's desk. He noticed how close the teacher's pen pot was to the edge. All it would take was a little tap...

He looked at it vaguely, losing track of the boring lesson like he often did. Then the teacher turned on his chair and accidentally knocked the desk ever so slightly.

There was a satisfying crash and James smirked as Mr Fowler ordered someone to pick up his pens.

He shook his head; Mr Fowler was so lazy that he couldn't even raise himself out of his chair to pick up his stuff. But anyway, there were more important things to think about. For example, he would get to go to Maxine's later, and not have to deal with annoying little kids at the home.

He'd have to clear the visit with Karen at the care home, but she was lenient enough. He thought she felt sorry for him. They both knew that kids are usually adopted when they're young, and that his chance was pretty much gone. In all likelihood, he'd be stuck in some sort of home for the rest of his childhood.

Nevertheless, for some reason, which was possibly Maxine's fault, that thought didn't seem so terrible for the moment.

LINE BREAK

James knocked on the door of the familiar mock-Tudor house, his heart beating slightly faster than usual in anticipation. He doubted he would ever take their relationship for granted, no matter how long he was with her. He knew that he was lucky to have a girlfriend like her.

Karen, as he'd expected, had readily given him permission once she had checked with Maxine's parents. Legally, since James was old enough, he was allowed to stay with her on his own. He glanced behind him, and noticed the owner of the house opposite peeking at him through the window. James held back a smile. Then the door opened behind him and he turned, his worries easing off as soon as he saw her stood there, smiling. He could never be nervous around Maxine. Although with her smiling at him in that close-fitting white blouse (not that he was really looking) there was a very different emotion to worry about.

"Hi," James greeted her, standing there a little awkwardly.

"Well come in then," she said cheerfully. He smiled, and went in.

The hallway was decked with polished wooden floorboards, and the walls were adorned with family photos. He took off his shoes and put them with the others on the shoe rack, and smiled slightly. James liked being in this spacious house – it made a nice change from the care home.

It always surprised him that a house this big only had four people living here. One of Maxine's brothers had already left home, meaning it was just her, her eleven-year old brother and her parents. On the other hand, maybe that was normal and he was just used to a crowded house full of kids.

"Come with me," she said, "I want to show you something."

She took him by the hand and led him upstairs. She looked beautiful as his eyes scanned her slim form. For a moment he wondered whether she wanted to – _no, no, keep your head out of the gutter, James._

Just then they turned, and instead of going to her room, they went into her older brother's room, which he'd not been in before. In it were an easel, paintbrushes, a sheaf of sketchpads, a small display table and some art subjects.

"Nice," said James trying to give his voice the suitable level of admiration, "I bet you love that."

"I know," said Maxine, "They let me use John's old room and even bought me the easel. It's so nice of them."

"Personally I'd rather be a writer than an artist, but it looks great," he said, smiling "and if you ever want any life drawings..."

She punched him lightly on the arm.

"Very funny," she said sarcastically, "But I thought you hated English. Or are you and Mr Fowler actually best friends?"

"It's just the essays I hate," he said, "Nothing to do with creative writing skills."

"Whatever," she said, "Let's just watch the film."

"What film is it?" James asked, following her downstairs.

"The Hangover."

"Cool."

LINE BREAK

They ended up lying down on the sofa, her head on his shoulder, watching the film. What surprised James was the closeness of the situation. He'd never had parents, and Ryan wasn't really the deep type, so she was pretty much his only source of close comfort. That's probably why he liked her so much.

He breathed in her sweet smell. It was great having her as a girlfriend.

The credits of the film came up and he felt Maxine shift.

"I've got to go to Vegas," he said, making her laugh. She turned slightly to face him.

"Yeah, I can just see you as a grizzled old man gambling all your life savings in a game of Blackjack," smiled Maxine. James laughed light-heartedly.

"Well by that time I'll be a multi-millionaire anyway, so I'll have plenty of money to throw away," he stated.

She rolled her eyes.

"Of course, your '_Most likely to become a millionaire'_ award in Year , how could I forget?"

James smirked. In Year Seven he had done whatever he could to raise money for a laptop he wanted to buy. He'd traded and sold football cards, sold sweets, bargain DVDs, done interest loans, and whatever he could to pay for it. Because of that, he had been voted almost unanimously as the most likely person to become a millionaire, a title he held proudly.

He nodded seriously to Maxine.

"That's right, although while I have all that money, you can console yourself with the thought that you were the friendliest person in R," he said in falsely sympathetic tone.

This brought them into recollections of all the other certificates handed out, and a general look back on school life.

"Remember that time at Oakland when that girl Rachel peed herself in class," said Maxine, trying not to laugh, "...and then the teacher wiped down the seat and made you swap desks because she was upset? The look on your face was priceless!"

"Oh god, I remember!" James exclaimed, cringing at the memory, "I could smell it on the floor! And I was so annoyed because I hadn't done anything and I could see people laughing at me. You'd think eight was old enough to have gained bladder control wouldn't you? That was the second time."

"You would think," smirked Maxine, before adopting a more serious tone, "You know, it's almost a shame we have to grow up, time passes so much quicker now we're older, and we were so innocent. Remember those games of Tag we played at break when they were at Oakland? We really enjoyed those."

James nodded seriously, remembering, then smiled, leaning in.

"But we wouldn't have done this when we were younger," he said, pulling her closer and kissing her.

"You have a point," she said softly, her smile giving James a thrill as always. She kissed him again, causing a rush of feeling to shoot through him. He put his hands around Maxine's back and pulled her closer, revelling in the moment. He moved carefully on top of her, trying not to press down too hard. Everywhere her body touched his felt hotter than usual.

James moved his hands under her blouse, feeling her soft skin under his hands. She shivered, and put her hands on the small of his back. Then, at the worst possible moment, he heard voices outside and the jangling of keys. _Crap_.

They broke apart, and quickly sat up, straightening their clothes and hair so they looked respectable. The door opened, and Maxine's parents entered, still talking with her younger brother about the music recital or concert that they had returned from.

James tried to look casual, lounging on the sofa as if he'd been like that for the whole film, with Maxine sitting slightly apart. There was nothing suspicious there. He couldn't hold back a smile at Maxine's guilty expression.

"Hello James, still here?" asked her Dad jovially. Maxine's father had seen him around here enough times over the years to be used to it, of which he was glad. It meant he didn't have to go through the awkward situation of introducing himself as his daughter's new boyfriend.

In fact, her Dad might even be glad that her first boyfriend was a long-standing and trustworthy friend, and may even give them his blessing if they were lucky. However, Maxine was reluctant to say anything, and he agreed that it was probably easier not to say anything to them.

"Yes Mr Whittaker," James called politely, while cursing his badly timed arrival in his mind. He tried not to look as flushed as he felt.

"Nonsense, I've told you before, call me David," he smiled, hanging up his coat in the hall. James nodded, and greeted Maxine's brother and Mum as well as they entered.

"Will you be staying long?" asked Maxine's mum. He glanced at Maxine before answering. She read his expression and gave a shrugging sort of gesture to the door, which he took to mean that he might as well go, unless he was desperate to stay for some important reason. James nodded in agreement. He was supposed to be back by nine and the film was over, and there was the added difficulty of her family, not that they weren't nice to be around.

"No, I've got to be back before the curfew," he joked, although it was partly true, "Thanks for having me round again."

"You'll always be welcome here," said Mrs Whittaker, waving away the thanks, "Now, have you eaten or do you need anything for the journey?"

"I'll be fine, but thank you," said James. He said goodbye to Maxine, and the rest of her family, and set off back to the care home. It was cold outside, but the memory of the evening was enough to keep the cold out. Or maybe it was the thick hoodie, who knew?

LINE BREAK

James arrived back at five past nine. He'd almost got back early, but some idiots at the train station had taken an inordinate amount of time buying their tickets, and he'd bought his just in time to watch the train drive away, forcing him to wait another frustrating quarter of an hour.

Luckily though, Karen wasn't petty enough to make a point out of it, though he thought he detected a touch of annoyance on her face.

"Everything fine here?" he asked pleasantly. It never hurt to keep Karen sweet, what with the amount of control she had here.

"Zoe and Rachie got in a squabble over the computer, but they're fine now," said Karen, yawning, "But they're fine now, and the little ones went off to bed without trouble."

"Cool," he said, "Is there anything on TV tonight?"

She gestured towards the living room.

"There's something on in there that just started, I don't know what it is."

James nodded, and joined the group of kids that were old enough to stay up past nine in the living room.

"The man himself, back from his hot date," jeered Mark good-naturedly as he sank down into one of the sofas. Mark was the oldest resident, in Year 11, and would be in another home for older kids next year. He was sometimes referred to the king of the residents when they were joking about.

"Yep," he said, before changing the subject, "So what's on TV?"

"Scrubs," answered Mark, "But don't change the subject, did you get any action?"

James shrugged uncomfortably, reluctant to answer.

"It was pretty good," he smiled, hoping that would be enough to stop any questions. James felt like it would be disrespectful to Maxine to go on about it.

"Oh, leave him," said Kate, Mark's girlfriend, "Or it'll be you who won't get any action."

She grinned teasingly at him, as the others laughed, and gave Mark a quick kiss to show she was joking.

James couldn't help but enjoy the atmosphere here. For a group of people whose parents were either dead or inadequate, they were a nice bunch. He got on well with most of them, and although he sometimes moaned and longed for real parents, he had a decent life here. The little kids were annoying sometimes, but they made up for it with their cuteness, and their funny little quirks. The people here were like an overlarge family. James was settled in here, and at least he didn't get lonely from lack of people. The only bad thing was the way he got treated by new people who knew he was an orphan. Too many people made patronising motions of affected sympathy that he found infuriating.

After Scrubs had finished he went up to bed, along with most of the others. He was lucky enough not to have to share a room like some of the others, so he got some privacy and quiet. He quickly undressed and got into bed, imagining a situation with Maxine, where this time, no one interrupted.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

James kicked the tennis ball up to one of his team, who then got tackled immediately. Lunchtime football by the bike shed happened pretty much every day unless it was raining, and today was a little cold, but decent weather, especially for January.

Winter was his favourite season; it had Christmas, snowball fights, snow days and he didn't mind the cold much. The girls rarely joined in, preferring to stay in the form room or stand and talk.

James ran up to collect the ball at the front, hoping he could finally get some luck in this game. He shielded the ball, then flicked it behind him to his left, turning and taking it round the person behind him with half luck and half skill, before booting it between the two piles of bags and blazers, the ball hitting the goalie's hands and bouncing behind him into the opposition's makeshift goal.

"Oh, yes, what skill!" he exclaimed, high-fiving Simon and Ryan.

"Yeah, not lucky at all," laughed Simon, shaking his head.

"Course not," laughed James, "You make your own luck."

"_What_ a fluke," sneered Ben, from behind him. James scowled. It _had_ been quite lucky, but that wasn't the point, it was more the disparaging tone of voice, and that it was Ben using it.

"Oh, yeah?" asked James, turning to face him. Ben wasn't fazed.

"Yeah," replied Ben, "You couldn't do that again if your life depended on it, it was luck."

James had never liked Ben Cooper. He was always unnecessarily annoying: nicking people's stuff, turning pencil cases inside out, acting cocky, and just generally butting in when he wasn't wanted. He wasn't even strong. He could take him, and have done previously, when he once confronted him for hiding his bag again. He stopped after that, but he still didn't like him.

James thought it must have been was quite embarrassing for him, since he finished it so quickly. There was quite a crowd too, and his _status_, as some would say, fell dramatically. Now he wasn't just the annoying guy in the class, he was pathetic, and itching to try and make himself look bigger by asserting himself. Basically, Ben tried to show him up, and anyone else he didn't like, as much as possible. Taking this into account, James wouldn't shy away from any fight with Ben. Since he was in care, he couldn't let anyone walk over him, because then he'd just look pathetic, and he wasn't going to let someone like him Ben away with that.

"Well you'd know all about luck," responded James, "Seeing how you were an accident."

James knew he was being harsh, and none of what he said was true, but Ben was an exception, and people joked about with false insults like that all the time. And although he was embarrassed by his pretty feeble example of wit, he was under pressure.

This raised a few laughs from around him. The others looked back to Ben, sensing a possible fight. Ben squared up to him.

"If you want to start something, I'm ready this time."

His excuse from before was that he'd got him when he wasn't ready and he was taking his stuff. It was a load of rubbish; he'd had plenty of warning. James would have destroyed him anyway, and maybe this was his chance to prove it. No teachers were looking this way, this area was round the corner from the playground, and to most people they were out of sight. The wall of the maths block was just ahead, not far behind Ben. He wanted to get him, and this was probably the best chance he'd get. But still, he was reluctant to throw the first punch and be seen as the bad guy.

"Why don't you go crying to your parents like you did last time I battered you," James looked at him, keyed up at the possibility of a fight, and enjoying the satisfaction of baiting someone you didn't like. Ben glared at him.

"At least my parents didn't bugger off the second they saw me."

His first emotion was shock. That just wasn't allowed. No one brought that up except his closest friends in private. Then he got angry. He had no right to talk about anything like that, and everyone knew he'd crossed the line. The worst thing was, it might be true, and it was something he'd thought about before, and it had worried him a lot when he was younger, he preferred to think that they were forced to, even that they were killed, rather than abandon him. That _he_ should bring it up in such a rude way was unforgivable. For a second he looked like he knew he'd made a mistake, and then his face hardened, waiting for him to react, as were the rest of his class, knowing he couldn't let him do that. If he let it go he'd be seen as a weakling who anyone could walk all over, and he wasn't having that.

He badly wanted to make him suffer for that comment. Rage clouded his thoughts, and he barely had space for anything else but to hit him. When James thought of all that Ben had done to annoy him he just wanted to crush that stupid blonde head.

James moved fast, bringing back a fist and flinging it towards his lower stomach, imagining him flying backwards and crashing down, wishing it would happen. To his surprise, it _did. _Well, sort of. He seemed to jump back just as he brought the fist forwards, and as he hit his soft stomach he flew back over a metre away, hitting the wall with a thump. To anyone else it would look like he'd done it, even though he was sure he hadn't hit him hard enough.

He was so surprised that his anger evaporated, and he wasn't the only one surprised, the faces around him were stunned. Ben was on the ground, winded, struggling to breathe. No one helped him up. James was glad of that. It showed they supported him.

"Wow," said Ryan, "Sweet punch."

James half-smiled, looking around to see if there were any teachers and saw Mr Fowler walking past, having just come around the corner. His heart jumped, wondering if he was in trouble, but he looked away, apparently not having seen it. _Thank God_. His stomach was in turmoil though, and he had a headache. James moved away from Ben, towards his friends. Others started to talk again as well and someone went to collect the football. Many came up to him to congratulate him, say they were on his side, and other gestures of support. He smiled nervously at them, trying to ignore the adrenalin pumping through him. He couldn't believe how easy that was; the wall was over a metre away for God's sake! James must be stronger than he thought. It was a nice idea, but he didn't want to hang around the crime scene in case a teacher came snooping. Thankfully, it was almost the end of break, and he walked back with Ryan.

"That was great," Ryan said with relish, "He really went flying."

"Yeah," James replied, smiling. Ryan loved stuff like this. His voice was calm, "But he deserved it."

He rubbed his aching head, wondering if he should get a drink.

James glanced back at Ben, who wasn't standing yet. He thought he banged his head. Oh well, accidents happen. Ryan seemed to notice he was a bit edgy.

"You know you won't get in trouble. The others there will stop him talking; he knows they'll side with you." He hesitated, then went on quietly, "Don't listen to him, he doesn't know anything."

James glanced at him, and forced a smile.

"Thanks," he said, "And anyway, I've been waiting to get back at him for being so annoying for a while."

Ryan grinned back, taking the hint.

"Yeah and it looked _brutal_. The thump when he hit that wall...and the distance he went... it was impossible." Ryan turned to him.

"How _did _you do that?" he shook his head in amazement, "Well anyway, he needed someone to go and shut him up."

Ryan continued talking while James half listened. He really had no idea how he did it. He'd heard stories in the news where people had done unbelievable feats when full of adrenalin. Maybe it was something similar. Ben must have jumped back at the worst moment. Anyway, it was done, and he didn't regret it; maybe Ben will stop annoying him now. Plus it wouldn't do his reputation any harm, especially with Ben being the victim.

James looked behind him, and saw Mr Fowler look away to talk to another teacher. He hoped Mr Fowler didn't see anything; Karen would be really pissed off.

They took their seats at the back of the form room. He avoided meeting the looks of anyone else who came in the form, and only talked to Ryan. He nudged him when Ben walked in, looking quite the worse for wear.

"Are you alright, Ben?" asked their form tutor, in his thick Scottish accent.

"Yes sir," said Ben, "I fell over." At this there were a few sniggers from the class, and James ignored him as Ben glared at him, sitting down at the other side of the class. James noticed Maxine looking at him questioningly, but didn't meet her gaze. Her pacifism annoyed him sometimes. Once he'd been registered, he walked out, acting as nonchalant as possible. Outside, Maxine was waiting for him. Ryan walked off to talk to Simon.

"So what happened?" she asked, getting to the point.

He rubbed the back of his head, eyebrows raised.

"A fight?" he suggested.

She frowned, as he'd expected her to.

"Ben again?"

James didn't like her tone. It was as if _he_ was the bad guy here.

"_Yes, Ben again_," he answered irritably, "I don't just batter people for the fun of it."

"Couldn't you have ignored him?" she asked "You don't have to-"

"I did have to, _actually_. You didn't hear what he said. If I'd left him, I'd have looked a right pushover," replied James scathingly. They had had this conversation before. She just didn't understand. She wasn't even there. That was what annoyed him so much. James tried to stop himself smiling as he realised he sounded like the stereotypical crazy soldier – _'you weren't there man, you don't understand.' _Still, she was being unreasonable.

"Are you going to tell me what justifies giving someone a beating or just make vague comments?" she asked.

"Well it was hardly a beating," James noted, but then his face hardened. "Although why don't you go and ask Ben, since you sympathise with him so much," he said bitterly.

James knew it was harsh, and he didn't really believe it, but he wasn't backing down now. He wasn't in a good mood. By this time they'd got to their class, and he stood in the line next to her. She gritted her teeth.

"Don't be an idiot James, I was just trying to be reasonable, but if you don't want to be..." she moved further up the line, to talk to a friend. He stood there, silent. She might change her mind when she found out what Ben said. James wouldn't back down after a comment like that. Ben had no right to pass judgement on James and his parents, and his anger was only added to by the fact that Ben had now caused an argument between him and Maxine.

Still, they had always made up after previous disagreements. It was what made them so close; that they could argue like hell and still be friends. And anyway, that was barely an argument. She'd make up with him later.

LINE BREAK

Sure enough, after the final bell, she came to talk to him.

"I heard about what Ben said," she said, walking with James to the gates. He stayed silent, not quite sure what to say. Awkward.

"I'm sorry I had a go at you, I should have trusted you," she said quietly, "I know you probably reacted badly because you were in a bad mood, so I won't hold it against you."

A part of him wanted to argue that he'd not done anything worthy of criticism, but common sense told him she was probably right. And another argument wouldn't be productive. If sitcoms had taught him anything, it was always side with the girl.

"It's fine," he said, "I overreacted, we're cool now."

She smiled slightly at him, still looking a bit concerned.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, hitting someone is great stress relief," he said, trying to make a joke out of it. He knew she'd come back. He tried not to look smug. Thankfully, his headache was gone by now. She smiled a little to show she was on his side.

"Never liked him anyway," she said, and they started talking normally again, which was a relief. They parted at the corner as she headed home.

"See you tomorrow," he called, getting on the bus outside school. He sat down in a free seat next to Ryan.

"I'll see if I can go round yours on Saturday," he said, "They know your Dad isn't a child-killer so it should be fine."

"I'll show you the rest of _Band of Brothers_," Ryan grinned, there's this bit where the guy's leg is all ripped up and they try to patch it up, it's nasty. And afterwards we can play tennis in the garden."

Ryan was lucky enough to have been born with parents that were completely loaded. They had their own tennis court, a pool, and a villa in the South of France.

"Sounds great," he said dryly, "Why wouldn't I want to see a mutilated leg?"

Joking aside, he was glad to have something to do at the weekend. Ryan's house was like a mansion compared to the care home, and Ryan himself was a great friend. He was loyal, liked to muck about, and a bit reckless, willing to enter almost any situation without worrying. He was good fun to be around.

He rolled his eyes as he heard two loud voices boasting about their high scores on some PS3 game. It was crazy how some people would waste their days away playing these shooting games, not worrying about their social life. James could imagine some of them completely losing their minds without their consoles. He said as much to Ryan.

"Yeah," Ryan laughed, "But as long as you don't go on it too much it's fine. You're just jealous that you can't use the Playstation whenever you want."

Ryan was partly right, even if James didn't want to admit it, but they were still obsessed. He counter-attacked.

"Yeah, well you're just annoyed that you don't have a girlfriend, although with a face like that, I'm not surprised," James joked.

"Very funny," Ryan said sarcastically, "Oh, and speaking of funny, did you know there's supposed to be an Austin Powers ?"

"Weren't the others made like ten years ago?" he asked sceptically, "It's probably just a rumour; I bet it doesn't happen."

Ryan shook his head, "No, on Wikipedia it said-"

"I could have written that for all you know," argued James, who then laughed, "Remember when we had that history homework on the naval arms race, and Ed had edited the page all so that a bunch of people got it hopelessly wrong? That was great."

"Yeah," said Ryan, smiling, "But there's still an Austin Powers ."

They continued the discussion until they parted ways.

"Bye," he said, and sighed. Just one more day left before the weekend.

LINE BREAK

James dumped his bag in the hall as he entered the home.

"Not in the hall, take it upstairs," said Karen, _again_. He sighed, picking it up.

"How was school?" she asked.

James gave his usual answer, thinking of Ben.

"Uneventful."

She sighed at his lack of gusto, but didn't press. Karen wasn't a bad social worker; she was mostly reasonable, only got angry when there was a good reason, and not that bad looking either. James took his bag up to his bedroom, which thankfully, he didn't have to share with anyone, and asked Karen about going to Ryan's house. She made a call to his parents, and agreed everything. He thanked her, and went to the living room.

"Fancy a game on the PS2?" asked Michael. He was a small 11-year old with glasses. Michael would join his school next year.

"Yeah, sure, why not?" James replied, and joined him in the living room. After about three quarters of an hour on the PS2, his attention was demanded elsewhere for a game of football.

"Guess I'll have to trash you at this some other time," James smiled, heading outside. He was probably second best at football out of the kids here. Top three certainly, not counting the adults. To make it fairer for the younger kids, they played with one of those plastic rubber balls that you often see kids with on the beach. It was easy to kick, but hard to control, with crazy swerves.

As often happened, a lot of people got a bit too into it, with gloating, anger at referee, etc. James' favourite goal was when their whole team charged forward with the ball, he had got it, and curled it in over all of their heads. The luck had been going his way recently. The winner was scored by an eight year old called Zoe, who got glowing praise from his team, and was lifted up on the shoulders of George, one of the carers at the home. He laughed at the expression on her face avoiding the top of the door. He felt satisfied. It had been fun.

LINE BREAK

"Thanks for the dinner," he said, "It was good."

James wasn't just being polite, it was actually decent. The guy who used to cook here was very annoying. He made one thing for all of them, and as long as he liked it, then he didn't care. Whereas today's fajitas...

James went up to his room, turning on his most prized laptop. That laptop had literally taken years to save up for. He'd never been a big spender anyway, but it was in Year he had really started his schemes. It was a Windows one. He wasn't a big fan of Macs. It was easily the most expensive thing he owned, although, being in care, that wasn't saying much.

James binned the junk mail, and his phone buzzed as he got a text from Ryan. It had a video attachment, which when he opened it, showed him punching Ben into a wall. Underneath was the caption, 'Owned'. He shook his head. It was so _Ryan_. James looked pretty hench in that video, he had to admit. He smiled at the thought of it circulating among his classmates. Soon most of the year would know about the fight. He only hoped none of the teachers would get hold of it.

LINE BREAK

James got undressed for bed, glad that tomorrow was the last day of this long week. It was only when he was under the covers that he really started wondering properly about what had happened today. He got up and took out his phone, opening the video Ryan had sent him. The video was fuzzy, but at close range it was clear enough. James watched the anger contort his face, and there was a loud _thwack_ as Ben hit the wall behind. He frowned, and watched it again. Ben seemed to flinch and try to jump back as he saw James was about to hit him, surprise all over his face, and that added to the force of James punching him, was supposedly what had made him fly back and hit the wall.

But he didn't think there was any way he could have hit Ben that far, and it hadn't felt like he had. Still, what other explanation was there? Was it really an adrenalin rush? Was it just anger? A brief, yet stupid thought flitted into his mind.

Maybe it was something supernatural, like moving stuff with his mind. James dismissed it immediately. There was no point being childish. He felt like an idiot for even thinking it.

_Although, _his imaginative side thought,it would be pretty cool if it was. The fun you could have with that ability. He lay back in his bed, and released a deep breath, trying to forget the events of earlier. He noticed a small rubber ball next to him, and he looked at it. It seemed stupid, but it's not like anyone would know if he did try to lift it, so why not?

James wasn't expecting anything, but there was no harm in trying. He focussed on it, and pictured its shape in his mind, and thought of it lifting up, _willing_ it to happen. Slowly, it lifted up. He sat up abruptly, his heart in his mouth. It dropped and started bouncing while he stared at it. _He had moved it_. Holy crap, this was...just phenomenal. Everything he has assumed was true in the world suddenly felt out of place. Nothing was impossible.

He felt a little tired too, that feeling you get when you've done like an hour of maths homework.

Man, he had hoped before that stuff like that existed but the odds against it were huge. He'd always thought people would know, and the fact that nobody does either means there's a huge cover-up or that I'm unique. This was...just beyond belief. He'd never believe this in the morning. He got up and grabbed a pen. He wrote IT'S REAL in big letters on his hand, and grinned. Wow. It actually was. The ball had only just settled.

Unfortunately he couldn't settle, he just kept thinking oh God, oh God, oh God. What about others? Surely he wasn't the only one. This was just so _big._ How could something like this exist and nobody know? He had to tell someone. Or _show_ them since it wouldn't be very believable. He picked up the ball, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep. He put it on the bedside table and focussed on it, trying to move it again, excited, and imagining showing this to Maxine. It twitched slightly. He felt a flicker of excitement, and tried again. It stayed put.

Nevertheless, that didn't change the fact that the ball had definitely moved on two of the attempts. And anyway, these things take time. Well he assumed they did anyway. James was struck by a thought; if he really did throw Ben into that wall, then he was probably the most powerful kid in the school. That was truly epic. How would James get to sleep after all of this? The thought of what had happened made him giddy. Tomorrow would really be interesting.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

James moaned into his pillow as his alarm beeped. Why did the bus have to leave this early? He turned off the alarm and forced himself out of bed, checking his watch.

Suddenly he was wide awake. _IT'S REAL. _His stomach flipped as he remembered the night before. It had happened after all. He needed to get on the computer. But first, breakfast. His stomach rumbled a little to emphasize it. He got dressed, and went downstairs. He was practically buzzing. He sat down at breakfast with a few of the others. The others didn't seem to notice anything strange, so he wasn't glowing or anything, which could be possible. Hell, anything seemed possible after yesterday.

"Morning all," yawned Dan, one of the carers.

It felt strange being back in this everyday situation. It just seemed that it should all be different after last night. As if a random guy was to pop through the door and say "we know about you, come with us," like some weird stalker. The world had changed for him but apparently the rest of the world was still the same. It was an impossible situation.

James ate his cereal quickly, but realised that by the time his laptop had booted up, he wouldn't have much time to look anything up. It was a frustrating thought, but even though it felt like it would vanish at the first opportunity, whatever power he had should still be here later. He hoped.

"What's that on your hand?" asked Michael, who was setting next to him, looking at him curiously. James hastily shoved it under the table, reminding himself to rub it off straight afterwards.

"It's nothing, just a reminder to hand in a slip," James said, annoyed at his mistake.

Michael looked at him slightly curiously, before shrugging, letting it lie. He exhaled in relief. He had to be more careful...unless he wanted to show it off. However, instinct, and TV experience, told him that wouldn't be a good idea. He didn't want to seem like a freak, or become a government experiment. No, until he knew more about this thing, he wasn't going to spread it about.

LINE BREAK

James hadn't mentioned anything to Ryan on the bus, although a large part of him wanted to share the secret. But the bus was too public for that, and he wasn't sure if he should tell him anyway. He doubted he could keep it secret forever, but he had made a decision not to tell anyone and he was sticking to it. At least for today.

"Here we go," said Ryan, "Your bird's waiting for you, but you'd better keep it PG-rated, there are children present."

James shoved Ryan half-heartedly, smirking, and greeted Maxine at the gates like yesterday. With all the strange stuff that had happened, it was nice to have a constant to rely on.

"What's that big grin for?" asked Maxine, laughing. He shrugged.

"It's the weekend tomorrow," he said, "And today's lessons are pretty much a walkover."

"Uh-huh," she nodded, as they walked to class, "Except French."

Ryan nodded in agreement.

"I'm definitely giving up French next year," he said thoughtfully, "I'm never going to live there, and in the tourist areas everyone speaks English. Plus, French is like four exams, and we've got Mr Botham as a teacher. That's just too much."

"I would if I wasn't so good at it," he agreed, "And I don't know what all the other options are. They could be worse."

Maxine nodded, and the discussion continued.

They reached the form room, and he made a vague excuse about homework so he could go and look stuff up on the computer, but then the school bell rang for assembly. Damn.

"Looks like you'll have to do it at break," said Maxine sympathetically. James sighed. She was right. He supposed it didn't matter, but it would be nice to have as much information as possible, just in case there was any danger he could find out. For example, for all he knew he might overexert himself trying to do too much and die due to a brain overload which could be easily prevented by having the right facts, who knew? Or maybe there was a way to stop moving things by accident, which might happen if he didn't research a solution. He didn't want to cause any accidents like he did with Ben yesterday, although technically it wasn't really accidental. But that was beside the point.

"Yeah, it wasn't really a big deal," he said, "It can wait."

Today's assembly and the other lessons seemed to last longer than usual, however much he tried to absorb himself in the teachers' words to distract himself.

After a while his attention wandered from the lesson. He wondered how powerful he would get. Would there be a limit to how strong he was? Was it linked to the strength of the body or intelligence?

That led him onto another thought. How did the ability come about? Was he an X-Men style of mutant or was it...a parent? Was his Mum or Dad a telekinetic? Could that be it? Was there a limit to the number of rhetorical questions he could ask? He hadn't the foggiest about the answers to any of them.

If his parents had this power, did that mean they might still be alive? He wasn't sure what difference the power made, but a massive spanner had been thrown into the figurative works, and that changed all the rules.

Glancing down at his stationery, he decided to give his ability another try. He concentrated on his rubber, trying to make it move, blocking out the background noise, and filling his thoughts with the greyish pencil smears and the curves of the rubber. He slowly tried to force it upwards; making sure it was out of sight. It trembled, and started to lift.

The bell rang loudly, and James jerked upright, his heart shooting into his mouth. His neighbour sniggered, and he tried to laugh it off. The rubber was back where it was. He shook his head at his jumpiness, and headed outside. Finally, it was break time, the halfway stage of lessons.

"You coming to football?" asked Simon. James grimaced. He didn't really want to. Firstly, he wanted to go to the library for previously stated reasons, and he didn't really want to have to beat Ben up again, in case he accidentally threw him over the school. He was nice like that.

"I dunno, there was something I wanted to check at the library," he said awkwardly.

"What for?" he asked.

He shrugged.

"I was going to do some homework. The internet connection on my laptop was dodgy yesterday, so I was going to use the computers here," he answered, trying to imagine what homework he needed the internet for. The only one was for Physics.

"The poster?" asked Simon, "We've got another week for that, just come and play football." James sighed.

"Alright, then, but if I get a bad mark I'm blaming you," he said, realising he had no way to back out without seeming a nerd. It could wait for later, and he could probably control himself enough not to kill Ben. Well, he said probably, he had no idea, but it was Ben, and nobody would care, so he went to join Simon to play football.

There were no problems with Ben; he had brought in his own ball and gone to play with a smaller group further away. He shouldn't bother him for a while. As for the rest of break, there were a couple of times he caught Ben looking at him that made him suspicious. Had he noticed something weird yesterday, or was he just pissed off? James ignored him and tried to enjoy the respite from schoolwork. He managed to avoid accidents, but as he left he thought he could still sense Ben's eyes on him.

LINE BREAK

After a nice and easy double games lesson, James ate lunch with his usual group of friends, not bothering to try and rush it because it seemed like fate was against him doing anything at school, and maybe he should read the signs. James had realised that at school they could record his website history or look at what he was doing and find him out. It was unlikely, but there was also a very high chance of someone seeing what he was doing over his shoulder, especially at lunchtime, when the library was most full. Moreover, the head of IT had been known to make messages appear on the computers of people playing games, asking what they were doing.

So he decided not to bother, although he still thought about the possibilities. The day passed slowly now that he was anticipating the weekend and getting back to the home.

"Did you know," murmured Ryan, as they ploughed through Maths questions in the agonising double lesson, "That time feels a third longer if you're really bored, and vice versa. I saw it on TV."

Ryan sighed, looking at the clock, and continued in a low voice.

"So by those estimates, this double lesson will feel an hour and forty minutes long, which is cruel by anyone's standards," he said.

"It is," James agreed, as the teacher explained the Cosine rule, of which he could think of little use in everyday life.

"Care to share your sentiments with the rest of the class, Mr Summers?" asked the teacher.

"I was just asking to borrow a pencil," said Ryan smoothly. The teacher frowned doubtfully.

"Well get the pencil and shut up, or it'll be detention," she said, clearly annoyed, before resuming the lesson. They were more cautious after that, but the lesson dragged on.

Finally, when he was beginning to think that he had died and gone to Hell, stuck in Maths for eternity, the lesson ended, and he headed to the school gates with Ryan and a couple of others, in a jovial mood because the weekend had arrived.

James glanced back and saw Maxine a little behind, and since his bus hadn't arrived yet, he left Ryan with the others and joined her. He found it nice to have some female company, not just as a girlfriend, but because the friendship was completely different than with his guy friends. Maxine would never make fun of anything he said.

They chatted idly about lessons and teachers as they reached the exit to the school. He walked with her to the corner. Maxine walked to and from school, so they usually parted ways here.

"So, doing anything over the weekend?" he asked conversationally. She knew what he really meant though – would they be able to meet up over the weekend?

"We're going up to London all day tomorrow," said Maxine apologetically, "I don't know about Sunday, but it's Joanna's birthday party, and I've got flute practice, so..."

He smiled slightly as she trailed off, but was slightly disappointed.

"I'll see you on Monday," he said, and leaned in to kiss her. After a few long moments, they broke up. He stroked her hair, smiling. She returned it.

"Goodbye for now," she said, and began her walk back home. He made his way to the school bus stop, where Ryan and others were already waiting. They didn't talk about anything important, just inconsequential things like TV and schoolwork. It hadn't seemed so unimportant before, but compared to the secret he was keeping, Year schoolwork was neither here nor there.

There was a strong part of him that wanted to divulge everything there and then, but this was the same part of him that had got him to test the sharpness of his penknife with his finger, so he wasn't going to listen to it this time. He sighed. That hadn't been his proudest moment.

The bus arrived then, and everyone got on, their year on the top deck where there was more space.

He was quiet, trying to work out what he would search for when he got on his laptop, and just generally trying to picture the future. When he was older, if he wanted to, he could probably turn to a life of crime, but that wasn't really his style. He could also do the opposite, and try to stop crime, but he wasn't bullet-proof, and he doubted he had the power to stop bullets. That also went against the whole '_not drawing attention to himself' _plan.

"So what do you think James?" asked Ryan, turning from a conversation.

"About what?" he asked, hoping his lapse hadn't seemed strange.

"Would you want to be immortal or not?" asked one of his friends, "I say he would, if I had friends who were immortal."

He thought for a couple of seconds.

"I'm the same as you, but I would like to have the ability to cancel the immortality if I wanted," James decided, "In case I got bored."

He wondered if immortality was actually possible in real life. He had heard tell of an immortal jellyfish so maybe it was.

He nodded at James' answer, and turned to someone else.

When the bus reached its stop, James set the pace for his group as a brisk walk, hoping to get back sooner. The fact that he had been denied a chance today meant he was dying to look on the internet to see if there was some sort of site he could find that could explain everything, and help him find others out there.

James sped up further upon waving goodbye to the others, and reached the care home in good time.

"Hello James," Karen greeted him, as he passed her office by the door, "Good day?"

"It was alright," he said, as he headed upstairs, "But we got a lot of homework, so I'm going to try and get some out of the way."

"You'd have had less to do if you weren't on the Playstation yesterday," she remarked.

Sighing, he went up to his room. He flipped open the laptop and turned it on. He waited for it to load up, took a deep breath, and started browsing. He typed in _moving stuff with your mind_. The first link was Telekinesis-Exercises and Techniques. Underneath it was the caption 'try to move the oil with your mind. Imagine that you are one with the oil, and then try to move it.'

It didn't look promising. He typed in telekinesis and tried again, hoping it'd be a more scientific opinion than just random guys. There were some stories of past events with supposed telekinetics, but he was more interested in how to learn it, what it was about, and present-day people. He eventually found something that actually looked useful; _Telekinesis and Mind Power. _The site had a chat room, articles, a q and a section, and pretty much everything you wanted if you registered to the site. He sighed. He could always block the offenders if he got loads of junk mail. He registered with his hotmail address, and looked through the pages. The first thing he looked for was a general explanation, and he found it, on the front page:

_Telekinesis, or psychokinesis, is the art of moving things using your mind. If you're going to try telekinesis, you have to be relaxed, clear of thoughts, and you have to be able to concentrate on that object and nothing else. Long periods of meditation and scented fumes can be helpful. You have to be very dedicated because it can take years to learn, but I think it's worth the wait. How powerful you are depends on determination, age, and natural ability. I have found that light things are easier to start with. Levitation is pretty much a form of telekinesis so use the same method as telekinesis if you want to levitate something or yourself off the ground. Opinions vary on whether telekinesis has anything to do with magnetic energy, while some think it's the use of energy in your body being used by your mind. Whatever the cause, the method of using it is the same._

James sat back in his chair. Out of all the sites, this one seemed the best, although it was a bit of an anticlimax after everything he'd been waiting for. The other sections looked useful though. The part he'd just read was far from all of it. There was this weird bit on _psi balls _that he didn't get. It said something about taking energy from the universe, compressing it into a ball and programming it. It seemed like a load of rubbish, but the rest seemed roughly correct, and although it wasn't particularly enlightening it might help.

James wondered if the guy who wrote this had a real ability or he was just a delusional nutcase. Either seemed equally possible.

For one thing, the meditation thing seemed like something to consider. Having a clear head had to be important, and the exercises would be good for practice.

He skimmed through some of the comments. There were either a lot of genuine telekinetics or a lot of idiots. James wanted to believe they were genuine, but he had no way of knowing. There might even be telekinetic communities that he didn't know about, hidden out of sight, which no normal people knew about.

The site was full of information, and he had all the time in the world, so he saved the page in his favourites, and left it.

James had an urge to tell someone. Ryan and Maxine were probably the most trustworthy; Simon wouldn't have enough sense to realise that keeping it quiet was a good idea, and Jake would just sell it to the news, assuming James would get rich and thank him. He'd already arranged to go round to Ryan's house tomorrow, so he could think about it, and if he wanted to, tell him when he went to his.

A course of action decided, James didn't worry about it for the moment; that could be decided later. Deciding he may as well start some homework in case Karen checked, he got to work..

"James we're watching a film," called out Zoe, a while later, from the bottom of the stairs. The weekly Friday film was one of their best traditions. It was one of the things that made them seem a bit more like a family, however sappy that sounds. He shut the laptop and headed downstairs. He was relishing the prospect of not having to be woken by the alarm tomorrow, and that, as well as his amazing new discovery, put him in a very good mood.

However, when he went back up to his room in the evening, there was an e-mail waiting for him on his laptop, marked with a red exclamation mark. James read the message and chills went down his spine, as if the room had suddenly gone cold.

_**Be careful, James Alexander Stone. They are hunting you.**_


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

James groaned as he heard running footsteps in the hall outside.

This happened too much. How come the younger kids couldn't appreciate lie-ins? Then, like before, he remembered his ability and the e-mail, feeling familiar tingle that pushed away the fatigue, and he went down to eat.

_That e-mail_. It was unbelievable. Normally he would have dismissed it as some scam from a site he had given his e-mail address to, but the sender was unrecognised, and the name was anonymous. It had come just a day after he had discovered his ability. He couldn't help but wonder whether his ability was detectable, and whenever he used it he was sending out a signal to those who knew what to look for. He hoped it was just a prank from that site he had been on, but his stomach writhed anxiously whenever he thought about it. The thing that really worried him, is that, while his e-mail did contain his name and surname, his middle name was marked by an 'a' only, so how did anyone know it? Was it just a guess made to try and freak him out, or had people been following him? And if people were following him, why the warning?

Dan, one of the carers, looked at him strangely, as if hearing his strange thoughts.

"Eight o'clock, that's early for you," he commented. James shrugged, in what he hoped was a nonchalant way.

"It's hard to sleep with that lot running about," James explained, pointing upwards to the sound of running feet. The carer nodded and shook his head.

"At least you could try to get to sleep if you wanted to," he sighed, "I have to be up from seven, sort out any bedwetting problems, fix tearful kids, and so on. And I asked for this job."

"Did you like the idea of helping less fortunate kids?" he questioned, half-curiously, half-wanting to divert attention.

"It's a sense of fulfilment you don't find with other jobs," he said nodded, "But mainly I just needed a job. Any job."

He looked bemused about his career choices. James left him to his thoughts and got out a bowl of cereal, nodding at Michael as he came down. After finishing his breakfast, he had a shower to try and take his mind off things. It helped a little.

He went to the window, looking through the crack in the curtain, searching for anything suspicious. Unless the road itself was suspicious, there was nothing he could see that seemed unusual. People passed, but no one looked like a stalker. Still, that was no reason to think he was safe. It would be stupid not to take notice of a message like that in the current circumstances.

So James stayed inside for that morning, doing some homework, reading and attempting to practice his ability when he was alone.

He had meant to make a decision on whether he should tell Ryan last night, but he hadn't been able to make his mind up. He would tell him about the e-mail, because if people really were after him he wanted someone on his side, and Ryan was a good tactician and fighter-he was also obsessed with war-related stuff. He was also great at seeing the best in every situation.

But he wasn't sure about telling him about his power. This sort of thing leaked out easily. A misplaced comment by one of them while people were around could ruin everything.

When it reached ten o'clock, it was time for him to go to Ryan's house. He'd told Karen he could get there by himself, so he found a nondescript grey hoodie and decided to leave via the garden. At the bottom of it was a small forest of trees with a high wooden fence. No one would expect him to leave through there. That was how he planned to leave. He also stuffed his penknife into his pocket. It had been a gift from Jack, a temporary helper at the care home, one of the nicest. James knew he was being paranoid to the point of lunacy, but he was a very cautious person. He remembered the old saying.

_Just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean they're not after you._

And it was better safe than sorry. James said goodbye to Dan, and headed out into the garden. Those that weren't asleep were otherwise occupied, so he wasn't hindered as he walked through the forest and reached the gnarled tree that leant over the fence. James scaled it carefully, and after glancing around for witnesses, made his way along the branch above the fence. He carefully manoeuvred himself until he was sitting on the fence, and let himself fall. He hit the ground hard, bending his knees to lessen the impact. The balls of his feet were a little sore, but he was fine. He looked around again, but no one was there.

He began walking to Ryan's, feeling better knowing he couldn't have been followed. He also picked up a small rock as an added weapon, keeping it in his pocket.

Fifteen minutes later, he reached his house. Should he even tell him about the e-mail? It would lead to awkward questions. But on the other hand, if he did tell him... He cleared his head; he would see how it went and then decide. He decided to go via the back entrance, which was next to a much narrower road with houses on both sides, and therefore harder to stake out. He doubted they were watching Ryan already, whoever 'they' were, but you never underestimate enemies. He knocked on the door. Ryan came and opened it, looking slightly puzzled.

"Why didn't you come by the front?" he asked. He shrugged and made a vague excuse before going in.

"Well we could play tennis any time before lunch," said Ryan, "But for now we can either go outside, play Xbox, or watch Band of Brothers."

He shrugged again.

"Let's watch Band of Brothers," said James. That way he'd have plenty of time to mull over what he should do. They went into the living room. He noticed Ryan's pencil case open, with his homework on the table.

"Do you believe in supernatural stuff?" James asked out of the blue, not sure where he was going with this.

"Like X-Men?" he laughed, "Sorry, but some of us have a mental age of more than five." He got a little more serious, "I wish I had a power though. Maybe invisibility, or flight or something."

Ryan sounded so sincere James laughed. "You?"

"Telekinesis for me," he replied. Ryan nodded sensibly, and turned to the film. The opening music came on.

"I'll get snacks," said Ryan, jumping up and heading into the kitchen. James decided he wouldn't tell him. At least not until he had had more time to think about it. It might even put him in danger, especially if he was being watched. He glanced out the window, but saw nothing. Ryan came in, carrying two bags of cheese and onion crisps.

"Think fast!" said Ryan, flinging one at his face.

He flinched, and on pure instinct, slowed the bag in front of him. James recovered quickly, and caught it before Ryan could get suspicious.

Ryan's eyes hovered on the bag for a second, and he frowned slightly, pausing.

"What?" he asked forcefully, trying to cover up his anxiety.

He blinked.

"Oh, it's nothing, sorry."

Ryan sat down and settled as the DVD ran on. A close escape.

LINE BREAK

James whacked the tennis ball back at Ryan, with topspin any pro would be proud of. Tennis was one of his favourite sports. He'd even had free lessons from some charity that offered stuff to underprivileged orphans like him.

James ran forwards for the return volley, and hit the ball back at him hard. Ryan got a racket to it, and the ball went flying over his head, but looked like it was going to land in the court.

"Run, James, run!" laughed Ryan as he ran for the ball. He gritted his teeth at the taunt. It was his set point. He had a tendency to start losing as soon as it got to the vital points, so he desperately wanted to return it.

It bounced once, but was still too far away for him to reach it. Without thinking clearly, he reached for it with his mind and it slowed enough for him to reach it. He hit it back over, only just realising what he had done.

The ball sailed over the net, but Ryan ignored it and stared at him.

"I win the set!" he exclaimed hopefully, not expecting Ryan to accept it. He didn't.

"You cheated."

James started to shake his head, but Ryan interrupted his denial. Ryan felt very strongly about fair play, so wouldn't let it go.

"What is going on?" Ryan asked, "You're doing something. I thought he noticed something with that crisp bag, and now you've done that. You need to explain. What stunt are you pulling?"

James' face flushed. He didn't like lying to Ryan.

"I don't know what you mean," he tried, "You're mind must be playing tricks on you."

"My mind has better things to do than trick me," Ryan said, beginning to get annoyed, "And you have that face you do when you're trying to cover something up. Just like when you and Maxine were trying to keep it secret."

James sighed. He was right. It was time to tell the truth.

"Okay, fine," he told Ryan, "I'll tell you, but there's no trick involved. Just try to believe me. Two days ago I found out that...I had the ability to move stuff with my mind."

The tennis court was silent as Ryan digested this. He glanced back at the house. His parents and sister weren't visible. They were alone. James looked back to Ryan.

"I believe you," he said, surprising him, "It makes perfect sense. You have telekinesis, and I'm a gullible moron."

His initial hope that Ryan would be easy to convince was crushed.

"You're being sarcastic."

"Well obviously," laughed Ryan mirthlessly, "Now tell me how you're doing the trick and we can replay the point. Is it magnets? Invisible string?"

James sighed, and was struck by the feeling he got when he was in 'the zone' when his ability almost always worked. He looked at Ryan. Now how would he do this? He decided on the chest, focussing on it and using his power to try and lift him.

"What the f-" he exclaimed, dropping his racket and batting at his shirt, which had rippled as James tried to lift him. His concentration broke and he laughed at his comical 'confused' face. But as Ryan recovered he looked at him with something he had not seen in his eyes before: wariness.

Ryan was scared of him. His laughter died on his lips.

"I don't know what you did," said Ryan, his voice trembling slightly, "But I will hit you if you ever try anything like that again without asking me."

"I'm sorry," he said, "But do you believe me now?"

He nodded slowly.

"It's hard not to after that," he said, "That wasn't human."

He didn't like the use of 'not human'. It made it sound like James was something different, a freak. Ryan looked at him curiously, as if he was seeing James for the first time, and wasn't sure whether he liked him or not.

"Stop looking at me like that," said James angrily

Ryan shook himself, and blinked, as if he'd come out of a trance.

"Sorry, I didn't realise," he said, looking down, "You just surprised me. It's one hell of a secret you've got there."

"I know," he said, "And that's not the worst bit. Let's go inside and I'll explain,"

They went to Ryan's room, and closed the door. James sat down and looked at him.

Wow," he said, uncharacteristically quiet, "So you're a telekinetic?"

"Yeah, I found out yesterday," James replied, "But you have to swear not to tell anyone. Too much bad stuff could happen."

"I swear," said Ryan solemnly. James smiled.

"Thanks," said James, "It's good to have someone to count on."

"I wonder if your parents were the same," said Ryan, thinking aloud.

"I don't know," said James, "Even if they were, they're probably dead. There's a lot I don't know about this."

"Sorry," he said, and then his eyes lit up, "So are there others?"

"Don't know, probably," James answered. Surely he couldn't be the only one.

"Can you teach me?" asked Ryan eagerly, "I'd love to learn."

"I don't know, maybe," James didn't want to teach him; not really, he knew it was selfish but he liked being the only one. Plus it would take time and effort, when he could barely do it himself. Also, he hardly had an idea what he was doing most of the time. Wanting to change the topic of conversation, he decided to get his other problem off his chest.

"Well there's more," said James, "And you won't like it."

James explained about the e-mail he had received yesterday, noticing how Ryan's face seemed to pale and slacken.

"This isn't a joke, right?" he asked, "Because that would just be cruel. Do you swear on your life that you're not lying?"

"I swear," he said solemnly,

"This is bad," said Ryan, "Seriously bad. Your life is in danger. How did you get here?"

"When I came here I went over the fence at the back of the care home, by the forest, in case they were watching the front."

"They?" asked Ryan, "Who's _they_?"

"I don't know," said James, "But someone seems to be looking out for me, and warned me."

Ryan nodded, thinking.

"Wait a minute. That fight with Ben!" Ryan exclaimed, "Did you use your powers to do that?"

"I think that was part of it," he responded honestly, "But I didn't use it consciously."

"D'you think someone saw you and worked it out?" asked Ryan, "Then contacted some team that began following you, until one of the good guys tipped you off?"

"It's possible. Mr Fowler could have seen something," said James, "But it could also have been something to do with this site I went on as well. I had to register my e-mail address, and it was that same day that I got the warning."

Ryan started pacing, muttering to himself quietly.

"I can think of four different possibilities for them finding out about you," noted Ryan, "One, Mr Fowler or other unknown bad people tipped off bad friends after witnessing your power first hand."

"Never liked him," muttered James.

"Two, they tracked your IP address from your site registration and found you suspicious in some way, possibly due to a connection to the area or...your parents."

James pushed his feelings away and ignored Ryan's glance.

"Next?"

"Three, they can detect it whenever an ability is used, and found you that way, and the final, and least likely theory is that they knew about you all along and have been waiting for something to happen," finished Ryan. "But that would mean waiting thirteen years, and if they are bad guys, they'd probably just have killed you straight away, or locked you up."

James nodded, but frowned, not liking the idea.

"It could just be a prank," he suggested hopefully.

"It could," nodded Ryan, "Your e-mail does have your name and surname in it, and Alexander is probably the first guess anyone would make for a name beginning with 'A'. But we have to assume the worst under the circumstances."

"So do you think I should hide out somewhere?" asked James, "What should I do?"

His plea was desperate. There were no easy answers here. James wasn't an adult, he couldn't just drive off.

"You can't hide out for the rest of your life," said Ryan, "And you can't start a new life anywhere else at our age. The Police would laugh at you if you asked for witness protection on the evidence of an e-mail, and if you go public there's no end to the possible problems. You could never live a normal life again anyway."

James laughed shortly.

"I'm not expecting _normal_ to feature often from now on," he said.

Ryan sighed considering.

"Really, your only option is to be on your guard for anything odd and hope that the guy who sent that e-mail can help you."

"So their plan is to wait around and see what happens," said James, "Brilliant."

Ryan grinned wryly.

"You're screwed mate."

LINE BREAK

_The man's iPod switched to a new song, as it had done four minutes ago, and four minutes before that, as it had done every four minutes for this whole afternoon. Of all the jobs in the world, he had ended up with this one: boring himself to death staking out some stupid kid and trying to blend in. He needed to befriend some of the higher ups. If he wasn't being paid decently he wouldn't be doing this. The last one lead of his had turned out to be a load of bull. Most of them were._

_He grumbled as his phone started vibrating. His boss._

_He muted his iPod and flipped open the phone to answer it. "Hello," he said, trying to conceal his irritation. It wouldn't do to lose his temper with his boss._

"_What have you found?" asked the man._

"_One of their men got his details from the school website. He's about the right age, and he's a dead ringer for his father. They ran the photo through their software and it said he was about an eighty percent match." he responded, "We have the right boy."_

"_Excellent. Is everything else going as expected?" asked the voice at the other end._

"_Yeah, the suspect's stayed at the care home the whole time, and we've worked out the possible routes to the boy's bus stop," he answered, "When he goes to school on Monday, we'll have him." _

"_No strange behaviour?"_

"_Nothing noticeable."_

"_Call if any problems come up." The line went dead. He put the volume up on his iPod, pretending to inspect a car, keeping an eye on the house._

"_Stupid bloody kid."_

_A new song came on._

LINE BREAK

James spent Sunday in the care home, not doing much, practising his ability some more. He was worried by his lack of control at Ryan's and hoped practising would mean less showing off.

James thought that the fact that he was finding it so difficult to do when he tried meant he had not been careful enough with accidental uses.

He had also worked out now that it wasn't automatic, but needed a certain state of mind, and a lot of effort. It meant he was unlikely to make anything happen by accident. What he had done to Ben was down to the fact he wanted to send him flying back and had unconsciously pushed him with his mind. He thought it was the punch that threw him back though, not his telekinesis. It probably just made it easier for him to go flying. He struggled to lift anything with any moderate weight. It was the same at Ryan's; his competitive side had wanted to win the match, so he'd strained to slow the ball, and obviously didn't want anything thrown in his face.

But he thought he was getting better. It was hard to tell after such a short time, and he was still unsuccessful most of the time, but he had a modicum of control when he got into it.

James lay in bed that night thinking some more about this whole situation. It was probably quite uncommon; otherwise it would have become common knowledge. He wondered if the reason it was kept secret was because it would start prejudice. It was definitely possible. Ryan, for a start, was jealous. He'd been putting up a barrage of persistent questioning, and so James had given him the site he had found. Ryan was going to see if he could use the power. If he did, they could try and have mind battles. Ha! Imagine that. Anyway, he would see him at school tomorrow, if he survived the trip. It would be his first time out in the open since the warning that he was being hunted. It was a scary thought. The message hadn't just said he'd been found out, or was being followed, but _hunted_. But what scared him most was the timing of it. It had come just two days after he'd discovered the ability. This meant that, whether there was a nice guy there or not, these people were organized, and fast. And he had no choice but to wait for them to make the first move.


End file.
